My Desire (Mi Deseo): Dark Mafia Romance by V. Domino

Author:V. Domino [Domino, V.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Los Muertos Publishing
Published: 2023-12-03T16:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-TWO

ROMERO

“Choose” by Ian Scott

I pull the boat up to the dock at the base of the mountain, helping Vicenta out with her brother following behind us. I notice his limp, as does Diabla.

She stops and looks at him with worry in her eyes. “Really, Vicente, how bad is your leg?”

He lifts his pants, showing the same kind of waterproof tape used on tattoos wrapped around the middle of his calf. Diabla hisses at the sight of a stitched wound about three inches long.

“It was a graze, hermana. It only feels like a bitch when I walk because it’s right over the muscle.”

“I could kill him,” Vicenta growls.

I arch my brows as we walk toward the waiting SUV. “What happened?”

Vicente details their race through the streets of Dallas, Texas, his sister jumping in every once in a while to add her point of view. By the time they’re done, my hands shake, but I breathe through it and focus on the fact that Vicenta is here with me and it was her brother who was shot, not her.

Shitty way to calm myself down, but I’d rather anyone else be hurt instead of her.

As we get into the SUV, I laugh when a piece of their story registers in my mind. “I wish I could have seen the look on Alvaro’s face when you rammed his door shut with your bike.”

Diabla rolls her eyes and looks out the passenger window, a smile on her face, while Vicente laughs from the back seat.

“He dove back into the car fast. If I wasn’t in pain from the crash, I would have laughed.”

I shake my head at the crazy vato.

“Did you get any road rash?” Vicenta asks, turning to eye him.

“My left side is spot free but my right…shit, you should see my ass cheek. Bruised to hell.”

“What did Dad say?” she asks after a moment of hesitation. If I could, I’d kill that motherfucker. I don’t give a fuck who it is, if anyone tried to take my daughter from me and threatened my family, I’d slaughter their entire family while they watched.

“About the bikes or the fact that he sold his daughter off?” Vicente growls angrily.

“Both,” she answers bluntly.

I hear her brother sigh and watch him through the rearview mirror as his jaw ticks wildly. “Nothing about the bikes. He was too busy trying to convince Mom you were pissed and acting out by leaving the country. Like I said, he made it out like you were just a rebellious daughter on vacation. Pinche culero.”

I scoff and shake my head in disgust. “He put the blame on you like a fucking child.”

“He is a child,” Vicenta says, just as her brother mutters, “He wasn’t always like that.”

It’s strange to see the wild differences in the siblings. It’s easy to forget that he’s younger than her, not just because Vicente looks about three years older, but because he protects her like it has always been his duty to do so.

I listen to them talk as we take the winding road back up to the cabin, but my mind is far away.

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